


Assumptions for Her Lady

by theLilyBird



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 23:03:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5762308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theLilyBird/pseuds/theLilyBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for the Kink Meme</p><p>Lonely, insecure F!Lavellan or Trevelyan has a massive thing for Bull, and one night when she can't handle everything (the weight of the world, her feelings for him) she finally breaks, pushes past her fears, and shows up at his bedroom door. Problem is, just as she's rambling about her feelings, or perhaps just standing there all vulnerable and obvious, she realizes there's already a naked woman behind him, in his bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time actually writing the dirty bits so do be gentle. I'm also just coming back from like a year long writing hiatus so I know I'm pretty rusty. I am open to critique, though.

Skyhold seemed darker and lonelier when it rained. The Keep emptied out and the yard quickly became deserted, as if everyone suddenly had somewhere far better to be. Inquisitor Trevelyan wished she too had somewhere better to be, something better to do. It had been pouring almost non stop for the past two days. Rain always made her sullen and plunged her into such deep thoughts that she hadn't left her room for the better part of the storm.

 

Her mind wandered from subject to subject. Ordinary things like  _ why does it rain? Who decided masks were so great that all of Orlais should wear them at all times?  _ and other random things flitted in and out. The Inquisition and Corypheus remained planted in the back of her mind, slowly becoming more and more demanding. The Iron Bull, however, dominated her thoughts more than ever. 

 

She didn't know  _ what  _ she she felt for him. Love? Lust? Infatuation? Desire bred purely from curiosity? In the hours she'd spent going ‘round and ‘round on it, she still hadn't decided. She'd thought she had narrowed it down to love or lust, but neither word felt right. All she knew was that she was stuck on him. He was always in her head and she could  _ swear  _ she was in his.

 

In battle, she would catch him looking at her. Once, she'd even reprimanded him for it.  _ Pay more attention or you'll get yourself killed, Iron Bull.  _ She had caught him watching her outside of battle as well; whilst doing menial tasks of gathering herbs or sparking the campfire with her lightning.

 

He liked her magic. Occasionally he'd call out to her, “Nice one, boss!” as she struck a man down with spectral blade. That was his favorite, she was certain. It was hard to ignore the lustful look in his eyes as he watched her panting, soaked in the blood of the corpse she had just split open with her blade. Yes, she felt certain that he felt something for her, too. Her feelings could not be one sided at all. There was no way.

 

This curious line of thought sparked her into a walk to the tower on the battlements that Bull called home. She was grateful she had requested the building crew fix the roofs on the towers.  _ What if it rains? And it floods the tavern? Or ruins all of Cullen’s  feathery coats?  _ She stood paralyzed in front of his wooden door, with her hand raised to knock. By now, she was thoroughly drenched and not getting any drier in the rain, but her wicked mind had drawn up a fantasy of Iron Bull warming her. Finally, she took a deep breath and knocked. Twice. Hard. After a moment, the door opened and Bull stood in the doorway in his ridiculous pants. She liked those pants. She'd make sure to mention it sometime.

 

“Hey, Boss. What brings you here?” he asked.

 

She imagined she looked somewhat silly, standing at his door in the middle of a rainstorm, but that didn't discourage her. 

 

“I want to talk to you about something,” she said, shaking slightly, hoping it appeared as if  she was cold from the rain.

 

“Sure, Boss, but” — she didn't hear the rest of what he said. Her attention was drawn to something inside. She pushed past him and instantly regretted it.

 

There in the bed where she'd just imagined herself moments ago, lay a naked woman, sprawled out over the sheets with satisfied ecstasy on her face. Morgos recognized her as one of the serving girls from the tavern. The girl didn’t seem to notice her intrusion. Morgos turned back to Bull with tears welling in her eyes. Part of her wanted to scream at him until her voice was a whisper and part of her just wanted to collapse to the floor in a weeping mess.

 

“Boss...” Bull began, drawing the word out softly, about to start a conversation she definitely wanted no part in.

 

She held up her hand to stop him and with the shattered bits of her pride that still remained, she quickly slipped around him and out of the wretched tower onto the battlements. As she stormed away, she could hear him calling after her, but she couldn’t even look at him right now much less speak to him.

 

Once she was sure she was out of sight, she broke into a run and ran until she found herself in the storeroom where they kept the wine. It was cold and damp, exactly where she needed to be.

 

_ Somewhere no one would look for her. Somewhere to hide and never be found.  _

 

Outside she could hear the rain pounding the stone of the keep. Inside the little stone room it was cold, damp, and dark. Somewhere in the dark she could hear a leak. She listened to the steady  _ drip, drip, drip.  _ She counted them to focus and keep her mind clear.

 

_ 1...2...3...4...and so on until she'd gone past a thousand and finally felt well enough to return to her quarters. _

 

She was freezing cold and still damp as she made her way upstairs and through the hall. She was beyond grateful for the rain as it made the place barren except for Varric who never seemed to leave the little table by the fire. The click of the lock to her room made relief wash over her as she mounted the stairs. 

 

_ Home. Safe. Free. Alone. _

 

Except she wasn't. 

 

Sitting on the edge of her bed was The Iron Bull. He stood and before he could start talking, she simply said, “Out.”

 

“Boss,” he started, again soft and slow, now lined with what she was sure was pity.

 

Tears began to well in her eyes again, but she forced them back. 

 

“Get. Out.” she ground out, trying to be more firm.

 

He made a move toward her.

 

She stepped back. 

 

“Get. Out.” she repeated, her words were cold and unforgiving, almost hateful.

 

It must've sounded worse than she thought as he winced like she'd struck him. 

 

“Boss,” he tried once more, softer this time.

 

The dam broke and the tears streamed down her cheeks like the rain outside and she let them come. Let him see how much he'd hurt her. Let him see her pain he caused. 

 

_ Let him see. _

 

“Now, Iron Bull. Do not make me tell you again,” each word scraped her throat.

 

He seemed to give up as he moved past her toward the door. When he reached the bottom, he lingered like a child who had lost something dear before leaving and slamming the door shut behind him.

  
She cried herself to sleep that night.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a week and a half since her encounter with The Iron Bull, also about as long since she had seen him. She had gotten Cole, Solas, and Blackwall up early that next morning and they'd set off to find some Grey Warden artifacts in the Hinterlands.

 

“You can say whatever it is you want to say, Cole. I'm over it now,” she told him when they had set up camp for the night. 

 

They were still close to Skyhold and she’d be home by this time tomorrow. The two of them were the only ones still awake. Cole rarely slept, which meant he usually got stuck with keeping watch. So, she would stay up with him sometimes to keep him company, not that he really seemed to mind being alone.

 

“No you're not,” he said.

 

She laughed and when he looked at her with a confused expression, she only laughed more.

 

Finally, she calmed down enough to speak.

 

“I'm not,” she said with a smile. “But I will be. That's the point.”

 

He tipped his head side to side, considering. She briefly wondered where he had picked it up. Both she and Solas had a tendency to do it and Cole spent plenty of time with the both of them.

 

“You don't want to be,” he said finally. “You want what you think you can't have. Why can't you have it? It's right there. I don't understand.  _ He was right there.  _ I don't understand.” 

 

She felt the sadness and the memories well up inside her. “It's more complicated than that, Cole. You don't always get everything you want.” 

 

Cole looked at her then, straight on with his icy blue eyes, “You miss him being here. Why isn't he here? He's always here. It would be better if he were here. Easier. It wouldn't be complicated.” 

 

It was her turn to not understand, but before she could ask him, Blackwall emerged from his tent.

 

“You two should get some rest, I'll take next watch,” he told them.

 

Cole went off to his tent, leaving her with Blackwall.

 

The warrior sat down beside her. 

 

“You should get some rest. We have a long walk back to Skyhold tomorrow.” 

 

She nodded and retired to her own tent. She didn’t cry, but her heart still ached.


	3. Chapter 3

Blackwall was right about it being a long walk. They started at first light and it was nearly dusk when they got back. She unloaded some trinkets on the traders before fetching something to eat from the kitchens. Rather than eat in the kitchens like she usually did, she carried it with her to her room. She felt starved and ate most of it on her way. She finished the last bit on her walk up the stairs. It wasn't until she got to the top landing and turned into her room that she noticed him. He sat on the edge of her bed, just as he the night she had ordered him out.

 

Before she had a chance to react he spoke, “You went without me.” 

 

“What?” she croaked.

 

He looked at the floor, avoiding her gaze. 

 

“You left without me. You left and you didn't bring me with you,” he said, his voice hard.

 

“What?” she repeated, more to herself.

 

“Blackwall is a good fighter, sure, but he's not me. You could've gotten hurt,” he looked up at her finally. He seemed lost. “You're not hurt, are you?”

 

“You're upset I left you behind? Seriously? After what you did, can you really blame me?” she shot, ignoring his question.

 

“After what  _ I  _ did?” he scoffed. “If I recall,  _ you  _ kicked  _ me _ out. After you ran away like a scared little girl and forced me to come after you, of course.”

 

Lightning crackled in her palm and she couldn't help but let it spark against the stone. 

 

Bull looked at her hard, “Hey, you've got nothing to be pissed about.”

 

He wasn't wrong. As much as she hated to say it, she had overreacted. She was currently overreacting. He didn't owe her anything. He hadn't committed himself to her in anyway. She had assumed and she was wrong. Bull was a flirt and she should have known better than to assume she was special to him just because he shamelessly ogled her now and then. Suddenly she felt small and childish, which did nothing for the burning ache already in her heart. She let another short arc of lightning off the stone.

 

“Knock it off!” he roared, leaping up off the bed. “What you saw and what you  _ think _ you saw are two completely different things. That girl needed someone to let her have a little control. I let her bounce on top and told her she had nice tits. You saw  _ nothing _ .” He crossed his arms and looked away from her, “It meant nothing.”

 

“Why are you telling me this?”

 

He let out an exasperated groan and advanced toward her until she was pinned against the wall. 

 

“Why do you think?” he said, his voice a low rumble.

 

_ You're not hurt, are you?  _ “You care,” she said, unable to hide her smile.

 

“Yes!” he said. “Wait, no, I mean yes, but...oh for the love of — ” 

 

He kissed her then, hard and full of need. He pulled away long before she had enough, pressing his forehead into the wall over her. 

 

He sighed, “Just tell me you want this too.” 

 

She looked him in the eye, and felt her heart swell at the vulnerability blatantly written on his face. 

 

“I want this, too, Bull. I want you.”

 

He smirked, “You want to ride the bull?”

 

“Yes,” she said. 

 

She was on him instantly, one hand cupping his cheek and the other draped over his shoulder as she kissed him. He pressed her harder against the wall and deepened their kiss. This time she was the one to pull away. 

 

“Bull,” she said between gasps, “take me.”

 

He laughed, “With pleasure.”

 

They were a mess of limbs, clothes, and armor moving backward, toward her bed. When he got to her smalls she muttered, “I need a bath.”

 

“Don't care.” 

 

He pushed her backwards onto the mattress and knelt between her legs. She found he looked good between her legs, staring up at her as he slid off her smalls. He softly kissed her thigh and smiled devilishly.

 

“Eager,” he said simply, addressing the wetness that dampened the reddish curls of her sex. 

 

With one fluid motion, he gripped her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the bed so her ass just barely hung over it. An undignified squeak escaped her and he laughed. The low, vibrating rumble of it against her skin, made her squirm. He threw her legs over his shoulders and went to work on her. Torturously slow, as she had expected of him, he drew a line over her sex with his tongue before slipping between her folds to flick the nub of her clit. She cried out and he laughed darkly, making her writhe. 

 

“Not fucking funny,” she ground out.

 

He flicked his tongue again and she whimpered. “ _ So  _ responsive,” he murmured. 

 

A strained  _ please  _ passed her lips and the grin that spread across his face was shit eating. 

 

“Please what?” he asked, resting his face on one thigh while tracing idle patterns on the other.

 

Abandoning any shred of pride or dignity she might've otherwise clung to, she reached for his horns and gripped them, tugging him closer, “ _ More. _ ”

 

It was all he needed. A thick digit dipped into her slowly as he put his mouth to her clit. He lapped at her greedily, like he'd never taste her again. The tavern must've heard her screaming and begging with whatever breath she could muster.

 

_ Please. More. Don't stop. Please. Oh Maker, Bull. Never stop. Please. _

 

A second finger joined the first and she wailed at their fullness. 

 

_ If this was so much how could she take him? _

 

His fingers worked her furiously, curling and thrusting while he suckled at her nub. How much more of this could she take? Her hands white knuckled his horns and she found it created great leverage to grind against him. He let out a breathy laugh, making her folds tingle hotly, but let her continue.

 

“Bull,” she whined.

 

He didn't say anything, didn't stop fucking her with his mouth and fingers, just fucked her harder. She scratched at his horns and heard him groan. If she were more lucid, she would've laughed, but instead she just stored the information for later.

 

“ _ Bull,” _ she whimpered.

 

He took his mouth off her for a split second and commanded, “Come.”

 

As if she needed permission, an orgasm ripped through her, making her arc off the bed and scream to the heavens. She chanted his name as he worked her through it, slowing but not stopping. When she came down, she squirmed to escape him; a half cry and half whimper as he lazily licked her sex.  _ Too sensitive. _

 

He seemed to understand and stopped to just look up at her instead. “How you feeling, boss? Want to keep going?” 

 

She nodded, perhaps  _ too  _ enthusiastically as he let out a soft laugh. “Return the favor,” she managed to say through heaving breaths.

 

“Nah, not today, boss. Some other time,” he said. “This is  _ just about you _ .”

 

“I'll hold you to that,” she said with a forced laugh. 

 

As the ecstasy slipped away from her, burning  _ need  _ took its place.

 

“You good?” he asked.

 

She nodded with a hooded, lustful gaze, “Fuck me.”

 

Lust burned in his eye as a roguish grin spread across his face. It suddenly occurred to her he'd never heard her say anything like that before. She'd always been the picture of the shy, elegant, and somewhat prudish noblewoman.

 

“Don't tell anyone I said that,” she added quickly, lightly chewing her lip.

 

He removed her legs from his shoulders and stood at the end of the bed, his grin carving deeper into his chiseled features. “Oh, believe me, nothing will leave this room,” he said, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “I'm going to keep this all to myself. Taarsidath-an halsaam.”

 

She didn't know what that meant, but it made her shiver. With one goal in mind, she sat up and undid his pants. Unsurprisingly, they were very easy to remove. He sprung free and wet heat pooled between her legs at the sight of him. He wasn't  _ too  _ big, but definitely bigger than any she'd had before. Not that she really had a large pool for comparison. She moved to touch him, but he grabbed her wrist. 

 

“Lay back on the bed,” he commanded and she happily moved for him. 

 

He pulled off his brace, boots, and stepped out of his pants before climbing onto the bed after her. She was up on her forearms in the center of the bed and he knelt between her legs.

 

Pulling a leg up over his shoulder he purred, in the gentlest voice she'd ever heard, “I'll go slow.”

 

She started to nod, but instead threw her head back with a moan. 

 

_ Was that just the tip? Oh Maker he would end her. _

 

True to his word, he began slowly, with shallow thrusts for each inch. With his final thrust, he was hilted. He let out a long, aching groan and leaned over her, bracing himself on the headboard. 

 

“You okay?” he asked gently, his voice strained with need, clearly trying to pace himself.

 

Biting her lip she nodded and reached to touch his face. It hurt, but with the pain there was  _ so much _ pleasure. She wanted more. He set a slow pace, obviously not entirely convinced she was okay. She squeezed her eyes closed, she felt so  _ full _ . So deliciously and beautifully full. 

 

“More,” she said in a hoarse whisper.

 

Instead, he stopped. 

 

“Look at me,” he said softly. 

 

When she didn't open her eyes, he abandoned the headboard in favor of being closer to her. He guided her hands to his horns before planting a hand by her shoulder to keep himself steady. 

 

“I need you to look at me,” he said, his voice soft and sweet.

 

She opened her eyes to find herself face to face with him. 

 

He smiled at her gently, “Good girl.” 

 

Then, seemingly deciding she could handle it, he resumed at a faster pace. Her nails scraped at his horns. Bull thrust hard and a long growl escaped him.

 

“Don't,” he paused, his voice frayed. “Don't do that.” 

 

She smiled, “But you like it.”

 

He gently pulled her hands away from his horns. 

 

“Don't,” he said, more firmly this time, “please.” 

 

Again, he resumed his previous pace, but now used his free hand to gently massage her clit with his thumb. She writhed under him, each touch of her clit made her arc toward him like a flower to the sun and every thrust made her beg for more. She was edging toward the precipice and she wanted him to come with her. 

 

“Come,” she pleaded. “Come with me.” Her voice was raw and hoarse and so unlike herself she barely recognized it.

 

“Anything,” he grunted. “Anything you want.” As if to punctuate his point, he thrust harder and rolled his hips faster and rougher  _ oh Maker _ .

 

She was close, oh so deliciously close. 

 

“Bull,” she gasped.

 

A gentle smile spread across his face, “I know. I know.”

 

She came undone with a scream, scoring his back with her nails as she shattered. He followed close behind her, thrusting erratically and with a rumbling growl he came.

 

Everything grew heavy and warm as they spun over the edge together, lost in their union. She hadn't realized that she had closed her eyes until they fluttered opened to find him staring at her.

 

“What?” she managed.

 

He just shook his head and carefully pulled out of her. The loss of him made her whimper. 

 

Collapsing beside her on the bed, Bull pulled her close against his chest. “If you want to go again, we can,” he said.

 

She curled into him resting her head on his chest and one leg thrown over his. She nuzzled him, “Mm, in a bit. I want to enjoy this moment of calm.”

 

They lost all concept of time and she had lost track of how many times he'd made her orgasm. The whole keep must've heard her. She would hear about it in the morning. It was late and the sun had long since set by the time they finished. Bull had tucked her in and told her he had training with the Chargers at sunrise. She was too out of it to really know what he was talking about, but she'd given him a chaste kiss on the cheek and curled up in her blankets, content and sated.

  
_ Oh how she had assumed so much and yet it was nothing compared to what she had experienced. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that fill got away from me. My first Kink Meme Fill. And my first time writing smut and sharing. Oh lord.


End file.
